The Guiding Light
by Dirty Reid
Summary: I had always wanted some more excitement in my life. I just never expected 'excitement' to include an alternate universe, aliens, and gratuitous space battles. SI.
**A.N.: Just something that came to me one day, and wouldn't let go until I wrote it.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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When I had laid eyes upon deep space for the very first time, my emotions ran wild. I had felt awe, fear, and insignificance. It was something to be respected, that great and empty void. For if you did not keep your wits about you, that crushing blackness could send hundreds of different forces at you, all keening for the life you were so ignorantly holding out to them. Now I had come to see space as a vast ocean in which I swam, buoyed and weightless between myriad planets and stars drenched in dark wonder and secret sin. Simultaneously showcasing the highest forms of illumination, and hiding the darkest of horrors. And illumination and horror were two mistresses I had come to know all too well.

Twenty-five years... twenty-five long and harsh years, I had called space my home. In all those years, I had tirelessly searched and found, built up and broke down. I had crushed armies and slagged planets. I had toppled regimes and enabled the rise of new orders. I was up to my elbows in a pool of blood, and every day since my first kill, I asked myself whether or not I was just a monster wearing human skin. Every time, I reminded myself that everyone who had fallen at my hands had been a prime example of the scum that lurked in the darkest corners of the galaxy, and that by rubbing them out, that was one less problem to be dealt with once the impending galactic-scale extinction attempt began.

I really sounded like a melodramatic, misunderstood villain there, didn't I?

My moment of rumination ended as I tittered quietly to myself. From the viewport looking across the dorsal bow of my ship, I locked eyes with my transparent reflection. I had never considered myself a particularly attractive specimen - though that was largely due to my lower self-esteem - but I liked to think I had aged rather well. In the years since I began my campaign, I had grown more physically fit in order to combat the threats I had encountered. That was when I was twenty-five, twenty-five years ago. Now as I approached fifty, I had a physique that most men ten years younger than me strived for. I did not possess the stamina I had once boasted in my twenties and thirties, so I found myself tiring more readily in prolonged combat. To that end, I endeavoured not to match the savagery of my foes, but to fight smart and finish them quickly, ideally with a single killing stroke. I had stopped needing to shave my head years ago, having lost all of my hair. My beard however, continued to grow in faster and thicker than ever. The browns, reds and flecks of blonde that had had once coloured it had long since given way to black and streaks of silver and white. I kept it well trimmed, and it fell to a level equivalent to my solar plexus. Several people under my command had jokingly started calling me "Admiral Gandalf". Being a fan of _The Lord of the Rings_ , I let the moniker slide. My eyes though, they were what I felt defined me the most at the current time. I had always had a calm, collected look abut me. Now my hazel eyes conveyed a sense of wisdom and experience usually found in veterans with decades of service under their belts. Not only that, but they looked tired. The skin under my eyes had begun to sink in, making me look the part of the weary old man I felt myself becoming as the days passed. Now though, the time for me to enjoy my twilight years was approaching. If the odds were favourable - and I liked to think I had stacked them in such a way - then all my years of planning, subterfuge, coercion and destruction would finally culminate in a victory. A long, drawn-out, hard-won and bloody one, but a victory nonetheless. And after this victory, I would ride off to somewhere quiet, and spend the rest of my days on a beach drinking piña coladas and turning my wrinkled skin brown.

Or I would go down fighting. Slightly less desirable, but still not a bad way to go.

At that moment, my Omni-Tool lit up and vibrated. It was the first one I had ever owned, a Nexus II, which I had kept upgrading over the years, despite repeated advice by many of the men and women under my command to acquire a newer model. I felt little need for it though, as I was not dependent on many of the apps and perks it could possess, instead relying on my own powers to see me through whatever obstacle. One such modification I had made was to the colour. The ugly sodium lamp orange default shade had never appealed to me, so when I learned that I could adjust the colour, I had jumped at the opportunity. Now instead of garish orange, my wrist-mounted 'Tool lit up brilliant white, tinged slightly with blue. It was a shade that matched the insignias on my ships.

As I answered the call, a holographic screed flashed into existence. Taking up the screen was the visage of my fleet's second-in-command. He had been with me from almost the very beginning. I had found him scrounging for parts in a junkyard, and when I offered him a job he jumped at the opportunity, just as I expected a naive teenager out in the big wide galaxy with no one to lean on to do.

"Admiral Jeel," I greeted my oldest friend with the ghost of a smile. "I trust everything is ready?" I asked, diving straight into business.

"Yes sir. All vessels report combat ready, and are awaiting your command to move out." He replied crisply. He had come a long way from the babbling, twitchy teenager he had once been. I realized I had no basis for comparison, but becoming an admiral after twenty-five years of service seemed like a fairly fast rise through the ranks to me.

"Good," I said absently, my thoughts wandering again. It was a habit I had never quashed. I could be paying attention to someone speaking, and a single word could trigger a new thought. From there my mind would snowball on towards the most tangential of notions, drawing my attention away. This time, the word 'command' had set me off, drawing forth images of all that I had done over the years. The good and the bad; the humane and the inhumane; the natural and the unnatural.

Jeel, who now knew me better than anyone else, tilted his head to the side. Such a gesture was required, thanks to the mask he wore. And though his eyes glowed an eerie silver, they couldn't illuminate his eye ridges enough for me to see one of them going up. "Are you alright sir?" He asked.

"... Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I shook myself back to reality. "I'm just... I'm just second-guessing myself again." I added in a low voice.

"How so?" Jeel pressed, abandoning his professional attitude upon seeing me do the same.

"It's just... have we been doing the right thing? Waging this shadow war? Telling ourselves that we're helping the galaxy by manipulating people into fighting each other?" I asked.

"Sir... Felix," Jeel said slowly, "you yourself said that people are going to have to fight and die to stop even more death from occurring later. And besides, look at the people we're setting up to start the fight." I had to nod at that. "Can you honestly say that they don't deserve it?" He asked.

"... You're right, you're right. Sorry about that." I conceded with a shrug.

"And look at all the good we've done in the process! How many lives do you think we've saved over the years by building our armada?" Jeel continued animatedly. It was true: My recruitment method revolved around the coercion of less than savoury characters to work for me. I tried to avoid violence when I made my offer, instead extolling the decent standard of living I had consistently provided. While that was often enough to sway my targets, who had usually chosen a life of crime to support themselves, there were usually some who didn't appreciate my poaching of their underlings. Violence was usually the only solution when these individuals tried to kill me, and my continual living was testament to how successful they were.

"You always know just what to say, y'know that Arn?" I said with a grin.

"That's why you've kept me around all these years, right?" He said with a smile in his voice. I laughed a little.

"No, it was for your stunning good looks." I retorted, prompting a laugh from Jeel. "Get the fleetready, we jump in ten."

"Yes sir!" He said while crossing his closed fist over his left breast and following with "Ad Eruditio!" My own salute. Admittedly, I had borrowed it from the Brotherhood of Steel's salute and tweaked the motto, but my legions didn't need to know that. Over the next ten minutes, I made my way up to the colossal bridge of my ship and watched my fleet prepare. Dozens of small DP20 Correllian Gunships and their larger CR90 Corvette cousins, with their enormous engine blocks, drifted to the front of the formation. Cylindrical DM88 Carrack light cruisers shadowed the gunship and corvette line, accompanied by the boomerang-like EF76 Nebulon-B escort and hospital frigates. A Neutron Star bulk cruiser, one of my lightly-armed supply ships, drifted past the bridge. An Assault Frigate Mk. II followed the Neutron's suit, and a couple of Quasar Fire carriers lurched out of their way. Overhead, Admiral Jeel's Venator loomed forwards, and a couple of Acclamators trailed behind it like ducklings following their mother. After my promised ten minutes, I opened up a fleetwide comm channel to give my address.

"All ships, this is Fleet Admiral Kingry. This is it people: The moment we have all been working towards. The beginning of the war to end all wars. Many of you have known this was coming for a long time, but you chose to stick around. For that I thank you, and I'm confident in saying that there are no others I would rather have at my side." I took a quick breath and thought about what to say next. Speeches had never been my strong suit, inspirational ones even less so. I was silent for a full five seconds before I started speaking again. I could sense the eyes of my bridge staff on my back.

"At this point I would follow up with something inspiring, and we would all yell 'rah-rah' and jump up and down, but I've never been good at this kind of thing. So you know what? Fuck inspirational speeches! Fuck the REMFs who make them! And most importantly, FUCK THE REAPERS!" I shouted.

"FUCK THE REAPERS!" Dozens of voices from the bridge yelled in reply. From further down the command tower of my ship, the same cry went up. Had I set up my 'Tool to receive transmissions, I would have heard the tens of thousands of soldiers, sailors and pilots yelling those three words and laughing heartily.

"All ships, spin up hyperdrives and prepare to make the jump to the Aratoht system." I ordered, and over the next few minutes, every ship in my fleet - from the tiny gunships up to the behemoth Altor fleet tenders - was presenting their rear thrusters to me. Then, one by one, each ship seemed to surge forward like a shot before disappearing from sight entirely. Very quickly, the only ship remaining was the one on whose bridge I stood. The _Guiding Light_ , my titanic Bellator-class dreadnought. Very quickly, the ocean of stars before me stretched into streaks of blue and white light before a twisting and flashing tunnel of energy seemed to swallow my ship whole. Such was the still-breathtaking view one was treated to upon entering hyperspace. I took in the view for a moment more before returning to my quarters, discarding my voluminous white robe and battle armour before throwing myself onto my bed and catching up on some sleep.

I imagine by now you would be fairly confused. A lot of questions had surely been raised, and I would be all too happy to answer them. The one I'm certain all of you are wondering is something along the lines of the following: _Who the hell is this guy?_ Well, that's kind of a complicated question to answer, but I'll do my best. One thing I should tell you though, is that I am no longer who I was when I began my adventure twenty-five years ago.

It's November 6th, 2183. My name is Fleet Admiral Felix Kingry, and I'm about to tell you the story of how I was uprooted from my previous, mundane life and dropped into the _Mass Effect_ universe.

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 **Like I said, just an idea I've had for a while. If I decide to continue it, I probably won't do so until I've got more of** _ **One Last War**_ **done. Please...**

 **1) Tell me whether or not you liked this chapter**

 **2) Tell me what you SPECIFICALLY liked about this chapter**

 **3) Tell me what you DIDN'T like about this chapter**

 **4) Tell me whether or not you'd like to see this story continued.**

 **Until next time,**

 **DR**


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